Fear Factor
by Kirayoshi
Summary: When Ron blames his fears for allowing Monkey Fist to escape, Kim considers extreme measures to help Ron desroy his fears. She's the girl who can do anything. But should she? Senior year, post So The Drama. Chapter three is up. COMPLETE.
1. No Touchie the Monkey

Disclaimers: First rule of copyright law; don't mess with the Mouse! Kim, Ron and supporting cast are owned by Disney Studios. I'm just having a little sport.

Spoilers: "So the Drama", plus a few references to other episodes.

Rating: PG. Not really much more than what you'd see in an episode of the series (at least when Season Four gets started).

Author's note: my first Kim Possible fanfic. Be kind. I took some liberties with the location and history of the Tempus Simia; it's been awhile since I saw "Sitch in Time". And keep in mind that due to the time-travel thing, Kim and Ron have no memories of their previous encounter with the Tempus Simia.

Pairing: Kim/Ron

Summary: When Ron blames himself for nearly ruining a mission, Kim takes extreme measures to help her boyfriend overcome his fears. But will she go too far?

_KIM POSSIBLE  
Fear Factor_

Chapter one

No Touchie the Monkey

_"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."_  
—_Franklin Delano Roosevelt_

_"Courage is control over fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear."_  
—_Mark Twain_

The venerable old teacher sat in meditation, after reading and re-reading the scroll. He considered all the possibilities, every conceivable alternative, and ultimately came to an inescapable conclusion.

The time of the prophecy was coming soon. Very likely within the next year.

A slight tremor shook his being. He was forced to admit to himself that it was a heady experience, knowing that he would live to see the fulfillment of a prophecy which he was aware of for much of his life.

The aroma of Darjeeling and hibiscus tickled his nostrils, awakening him from his mild trance. He turned calmly toward the door of his apartment, and saw the young girl standing in the doorway, the tray in her hands bearing a porcelain teapot and two teacups.

"Master Sensei," the young woman bowed slightly, still holding the tray, "you had requested tea at this time."

"Many thanks, Yori-chan," Sensei nodded. "Please, sit with me."

"Hai." Yori, one of Master Sensei's most distinguished students at the Yamanouchi ninja school, took her place at Sensei's feet, sitting in lotus position. "You seem troubled, Master Sensei. "

"Not troubled, Yori-san," Sensei corrected her gently, "but concerned. I feel that the time will soon come when the true master of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar will face the gravest of threats.

Yori gasped. "Stoppable-san!" she whispered .

"Indeed," Sensei declared. "And as such, there is one final test that I must prepare." Pouring a stream of hot tea into Yori's cup and then into his own, he added, "I want you to write a statement to the international press; I have decided to grant the Tri-city Museum in Colorado permission to exhibit some of the treasures of the Yamanouchi Academy."

Yori's face bore a puzzled expression. "Master," she breathed as she held her teacup in hands both delicate and strong enough to break cinderblocks, "do you mean to include—"

"I do, Yori-chan," Sensei smiled affectionately at his favorite full-time student. "The time of the final testing draws near, and I require the pieces to be in play.

"Forgive me for asking, Sensei," Yori lowered her head, fearing the response she would get to her next question. "But is it necessary to test Stoppable-san again?

Sensei acknowledged her question with a knowing gaze, a smile playing at his lips. "Ah, but the subject of the test is not Stoppable-san, but his destined soulmate."

Yori lowered her head to her chest sadly. "Kim Possible.

* * *

Six weeks later; 

Kim was relaxing in her usual seat on the couch, while Ron was assuming what had become his customary position, reclining on the sofa, his head in her lap, and an open text-book in his hands. Rufus was tucked away in his usual home, the lower right pocket of Ron's cargo pants, and he poked his head out to watch the young couple, occasionally offering commentary in the form of kissing noises.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day," the red-haired teen sighed dreamily as her hands lazily combed through his straw-colored hair. "Thou art more lovely and more—"

"More what, Kim?" Ron Stoppable rolled his eyes dramatically at Kim's poetic pronouncement. "Hot? Sweaty? Mosquito-infested? Please, babe, let's not bring Camp Wannaweep into this, huh?"

"Ron," Kim Possible mock-scolded her long-time best friend (and now boyfriend). "Serious up here. You only have three more days to memorize a sonnet for Mr. Barkin's Shakespeare class on Monday. And I always liked that one, I thought that might be a good choice for you."

Kim was understandably worried for her boyfriend; during his senior year, he and Kim spent much of their time between classes (while not otherwise busy stopping the elaborate crimes of assorted villains) studying together. And much to the delight of Kim's parents (and the disappointment of the Tweebs), most of the time was actually spent studying, with the occasional make-out session, usually as a reward for Ron's successfully acing a test or finishing a term-paper. As a result, his grades had improved dramatically from what he called his "Gentleman's C" level, but he and Kim both knew that he still had a way to go. Even after he surprised the school board by scoring in the top ten percentile in his SATs, he still needed to score at least an A-minus in English Lit to have a chance of being accepted at Upperton University. To that end, he accepted an extra-credit assignment that Barkin had offered the class; to memorize one of Shakespeare's sonnets and recite the poem in front of the class. Barkin, impressed with Ron's progress over his senior year, even announced to the former slacker that if he pulled off an A in his class, he would personally write a glowing letter of recommendation to the Upperton application board.

Unknown to both teen's parents, Ron and Kim had an ulterior motive behind his academic excellence; Kim had already been accepted at Upperton University, and Ron had every intention of being there with her. Kim and Ron both looked forward to attending the same college, rooting for the Upperton Mighty Ducks, attending campus functions, dances, studying together in either of their dorms—and of course simply being together without the constant threat of Ron being rocketed into a black hole by Kim's father or the steady drone of gagging sounds by the Tweebs. Just being with Kim. That's all he wanted.

"Alas, milady fair," Ron flashed Kim a lopsided smile, "Tara didst beat me to that one. But chill, KP, I managed to find a good one. I've been practicing it for half-an-hour every night for the last week. Trust me, the Ron-man's got the Bard down!"

"Spankin'," Kim exclaimed happily, bending her head to kiss the tip of Ron's nose. "So, you wanna tell me your choice?"

"No can do, KP," Ron shook his head. "Surprise and all. Trust me, you'll love it."

Kim regarded her boyfriend with a glare of mock indignation. She then relaxed her features, her eyes widened and her lower lip began to tremble slightly. Ron winced slightly, recognizing what was to come; the Puppy-dog Pout. As he witnessed Kim bringing all her powers to bear in an effort to wheedle the truth from Ron, his goofy grin returned slowly. "Sorry, KP," Ron announced, "but this time, I finally have the antidote to the dreaded Puppy-dog Pout."

"Oh?" Kim furrowed her brow slightly. "And what might that be-MPFH—" Kim's sentence was interrupted by Ron suddenly lifting his head off of her lap as his hands slid behind her head, pulling her down for a serious kiss. Kim considered pushing him away for all of a tenth of a second, but quickly allowed herself to enjoy the warm sensations of Ron's lips gently exploring hers, his hands running through her hair. Rufus simply made a rude face and squealed, "EWW!" before ducking back into Ron's pocket to avoid witnessing the private display of affection.

After ten seconds, Ron pulled away slightly, but his arms remained draped over Kim's shoulders. "Trust me, KP. Monday, I think you'll be impressed by my choice. Besides, I chose it just for you." Flashing Kim a cursory look, he added, "So, we all alone in the house tonight?"

Kim nodded. "Mom's got a late-night shift at the hospital, and Dad and the Tweebs are at a Rocket Camp retreat for the weekend, so yeah. How about your folks?"

Ron breathed a slight sigh of relief; the last thing he needed was to hear Dr. Mr. Possible's "Black Hole Deep" speech for the umpteenth time. "The 'rents are attending a 'couples retreat' led by Rabbi Katz, so I've got the house to myself until Sunday."

"In that case," Kim's lips unturned in a flirtatious smile, "maybe we could do some refresher study—y'know, basic anatomy, human relations—"

Ron lowered his eyelids slightly, waggling his eyebrows in his best approximation of a leer. "Boo-yeah," he growled as she wrapped her arms around Ron's torso, pulling him in for another kiss.

_Beep-beep-BE-deep—_

Ron and Kim suddenly pulled away as if her father and the Tweebs had caught them in the act. Kim looked at Ron, her eyes widened in silent apology. Ron smiled understandingly, adding, "This had better be good, Wade." Rufus, hearing the signal, scampered out of Ron's pocket and up his arm, resting on the young boy's shoulder as he watched intently. Kim and Ron both knew that Wade wouldn't try to contact them on their date night, unless the need was great. But still, the interruption grated.

Kim grabbed her ever-present Kimmunicator from the coffee table and switched it on. "What's the sitch, Wade?" she asked, almost but not quite successful in masking her irritation. "And keep in mind that if this involves Duff Killigan or the Senors, I'm hanging up."

Wade Load's beaming face lit up the screen on Kim's multi-purpose communications device as he sat behind his computer, a large soda on the desk within sipping distance. "Sorry if I interrupted anything—important," Wade grinned mischievously, causing Kim to groan inwardly, (_Honestly,_ she thought but didn't say, _he can be worse than the Tweebs sometimes!_) "but I thought you should hear this. We got a few hits on your website; a figure was seen staking out the Tri-Cities Museum, and someone even provided a photo taken from a digital camera."

Wade's chubby fingers flew deftly across his computer keyboard, and his image was replaced by a grainy photograph of the museum garage. A solitary figure perched on a tree-limb outside of the garage, silhouetted against the parking lot lights. Ron tensed slightly as he recognized the figure's posture, especially the way his long hands dangled simian-like below the limb.

Wade continued; "Apparantly a new exhibit of ancient relics is opening tomorrow, including a few that are reputed to possess mystical powers. One of the reported artifacts is supposed to be something called the Tempus Simia."

"As in, 'Time Monkey'?" Kim translated. As the words left her lips both she and Ron felt a vague uneasiness, a strong sense of familiarity. Kim brushed it off easily, not putting much stock into deja-vu, but Ron was still apprehensive.

"Let me guess," Ron grumbled, "Monkey Fist wants to steal this Time Monkey?"

Kim placed her hand on Ron's shoulder sympathetically. "Maybe it's not Monkey Fist this time, Ron," she offered.

"Take a look at that pic, KP," Ron argued calmly. "Unless Shego's stopped seeing her manicurist, that's ol' Monkey Boy. Besides, it's a mystic monkey statue, of course he's gonna try and steal it; that's practically his signature piece. Don't worry, Kim, I'm mostly over my fear of monkeys."

"You sure, Ron?"

"Mostly sure," Ron hedged slightly. With more conviction he added, "And even if I wasn't, they could throw King Kong at me and I'd still have your back, KP."

Kim smiled warmly at Ron's assertion. "We got transport, Wade?"

"On it," Wade grinned. "I've been wanting to field-test those new anti-grav boogie-boards I was working on." Kim and Ron heard a sudden thud outside the front door. "That'll be them now. They're fitted with GPS chips, and I already set them with the coordinates for the museum. They'll get you there in minutes."

"Wade, you rock," Kim assured her tech-expert. She glanced a slightly disappointed look at Ron, and added under her breath, "Even if your timing doesn't." Kim shut off the connection and turned to Ron. "Let's go get suited up."

"Right, KP," Ron nodded, summoning his game face and heading for the main closet, where he had kept a spare mission suit. "Let's go spank that monkey!"

Kim turned sharply at her boyfriend, regarding him with a withering glare. Realizing his gaffe, Ron gulped and added, "Uh, that came out wrong, didn't it?"

* * *

Kim crouched on top of her anti-grav board, reveling in the feel of the wind on her face as she swooped over the rooftops of Middleton. Ron, on the other hand, clamped his hands onto the sides of his board in a vise-like grip, not trusting himself to fall if he tried to stand. Kim smiled sadly as she caught sight of her boyfriend's less than dignified approach to riding the boogie-board. No matter how many times she risked her life to save the world, she was glad that Ron would always be there for her, even when his fears threatened to overpower him. She mentally promised to make it up to him once the mission was over. 

After a few more minutes, Team Possible had arrived at the museum, and lowered the boogie-boards to the ground. "Okay," Kim briefed Ron as they stashed the boards behind a nearby tree, "Monkey Fist is probably in there, probably backed by a squad of his monkey-ninjas. Wade contacted Global Justice already, and Dr. Director and Will Du will meet us here in half an hour."

"No muss, no fuss," Ron nodded, smirking slightly, "and home in an hour, so we can get back to our rudely interrupted make-out session."

"We'll discuss that later, Ron," Kim answered, feigning anger, but with a knowing smile playing at her lips. Silently, they made their way to the front door, which Kim noticed was ajar and slightly dented, as though kicked in. They slipped in silently, noticing that no alarms sounded at their entrance; evidently Fist's hench-monkeys had taken care of the alarms.

She pulled her Kimmunicator out of her pocket and flipped a switch. A bright halogen light flared to life from the base of the unit, stabbing into the darkness ahead. "Scanning the museum for heat signatures," Kim murmured as she waved the Kimmunicator in front of her, shining the light through the museum hallways. A sudden bleep sounded as the beam passed over a section of wall, near the 'Tri-City Expo' exhibit. She pointed quietly to Ron, and then to the hallway ahead. He nodded, comprehending, and steeled himself for the inevitable encounter with his least-favorite foe.

A manic cackle sounded over the smashed displays of Chinese and Tibetan antiques and artifacts. "At last!" Montgomery Fiske, the monkey-obsessed martial artist known to the world as "Monkey Fist" gloated as he approached the pedestal where the jade monkey idol rested. "With the power of the Tempus Simia, I will be invincible!"

"Oh, that trick again?" an all-too familiar voice chanted mockingly. Fiske turned his head and gazed on the figures of Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable rushing toward him. "You gotta get some new material, Fist," Kim added. "You're beginning to repeat yourself."

"So," Monkey Fist intoned darkly, "I should have known that I would find you here, Kim Possible. You and your monkey-phobic friend," he regarded Ron with disdain. "He still possesses the mystic monkey power that by rights should belong to me! But once I obtain the powers of the Tempus Simia, this shall change!"

Ron rolled his eyes at Monkey Fist's grandiose pronouncement. "Monologuing. I hate monologuing."

Kim raised her hand slightly to cut off Ron's complaint. "So this little carnival prize has some kind of weird monkey power, I'm guessing?"

"Astute observation, Miss Possible," Monkey Fist stepped forward. "With it, I shall possess the power of time travel. I will travel back to before I encountered you, and retrieve the monkey idols without your interference! Then I will kill your friend before his blundering derailed my destiny to become the True Monkey Master!"

"Well, good luck with that," Kim announced as she approached the would-be master of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar, her arms lifted in a battle-ready position. "I mean, it's probably going to be tough pulling off that True Monkey Master thing, seeing as how you're going to jail and all."

Ron stood behind Kim, attempting to mask his fear. Fist was right about one thing; Ron had spent much of his life dealing with an almost paralyzing fear of monkeys. But Ron stood stalwart beside Kim, his legs bent slightly, ready for action.

"I doubt that, Kim Possible," Monkey Fist sneered. Pointing at his two adversaries, the insane martial artist shouted, "Monkey Ninjas, ATTACK!" At his command, his minions lunged forward, toward Kim and Ron.

"Scatter!" Kim shouted, and she and Ron dove to opposite directions. Ron rolled clumsily as the ninja squad split into two units, each one targeting one of the two heroes. Ducking under and behind a fallen display case, Ron fumbled with a compartment in his belt where he kept a telescoping bo-staff, a new toy that Wade had invented for him. Unlatching the six-inch long metal rod, Ron pressed his thumb against a stud on the side, and smiled as it snapped open, elongating to eight feet in half of a second. "Boom, baby!" Ron shouted, striking a martial pose, holding the staff forward. "Didn't think I came prepared, Monkey-boy, huh?"

Ron spun the bo-staff in his hands, knocking out two of the ninja monkeys that tried to pounce on him. Kim leaped capably over the heads of her pursuers, taking a brief moment mid-flight to admire Ron as he handled the staff. She suppressed a smile as she watched, inwardly pleased that he seemed to be keeping his attackers at bay. She landed next to Fist lunged for him. Fist leapt away from her grasp and placed his simian paws on top of her head, leapfrogging over her and toward the idol.

"Ron!" she called out. "Can you get up here before Monkey Fist gets away?"

"I'm so there, KP," Ron smiled. He pushed aside another ninja, and held the staff forward. He ran toward Kim for several steps, then lowered the tip of the staff to the ground, preparing to use the staff as a pole vault...only to have the staff contract suddenly to its six-inch state just as he began his vault, carrying the hapless teen with it. Ron found himself plowing into the ground in an ungainly heap, and within seconds the ninjas literally monkey-piled on top of him. Ron seized up under the weight of his attackers, his legs and arms flailing helplessly, and cried out, "Get'emoffme, get'emoffme!"

"RON!" Kim shouted as she leapt toward her boyfriend, knocking out several monkey ninjas with seasoned karate blows.

"Excellent," Monkey Fist smiled cruelly as he rushed the dais on all fours, his mutated simian-like hands and feet propelling him at inhuman speed. "Now that the pretender to the throne and his rescuer are otherwise occupied," he announced as he snatched the Tempus Simia from its pedestal, "I shall retrieve my rightful prize! Monkey ninjas, to me!" The whirring sounds of a helicopter's rotary wings filled the air as a black shadow loomed through the skylight. One of Fiske's minions had clambered to the skylight, kicking out several panes of glass.

The monkeys jumped onto the dais as Monkey Fist pulled a grappler gun out of his belt holster and fired a piton into air where it connected with the helicopter, trailing a high-tensile line behind it, the other end of which Monkey Fist held with his free hand. The monkeys scampered up the line to the waiting chopper, with Monkey Fist fastening the rope around his waist, just as the chopper lifted him into the air.

"Farewell, Kim Possible!" he shouted over the din of the chopper, carrying the Tempus Simia in his arms like a cherished trophy. "When next we meet, I shall be all-powerf-AIIEEE!" As Kim steadied Ron to his feet, they turned their heads suddenly to witness the sight of Rufus biting down hard on Monkey Fist's hand, sinking his incisors deep into the hairy flesh before jumping off the arch villain. The sudden pain caused Monkey Fist to release his hold on the Tempus Simia, which fell to the ground. With practiced ease, Kim somersaulted toward the falling idol, catching it in her hands before it could hit the ground. Rufus rolled as he landed on the ground and scurried toward his master, nuzzling gently on Ron's cheek.

"Hey, Fiske!" Kim shouted, holding the idol before her. "You dropped something!"

"CURSE YOU, POSSIBLE!" Monkey Fist shouted as the helicopter shrank in the distance. "This isn't over!"

Kim smirked sullenly as Monkey Fist disappeared in the clouds. "Why do escaping villains always have to say that?" she asked no one in particular. She turned to Rufus, who was comforting his fallen master. "Hey, nice save, Rufus. Next batch of Nacos is on me." Rufus chittered a pleased response, lifting his hand over his brow in a snappy salute. "Ron, are you hurt?" Kim turned her attention to her boyfriend, who lay unmoving on the ground where he had landed.

"I'd say, 'only my pride', KP," he answered wearily, as he slowly lifted himself off the ground. "If I had any left, that is."

Kim patted his knee gently as she pulled out her Kimmunicator, switching it to the GJ frequency. "Dr. Director," she announced, "Monkey Fist got away, but we stopped him from stealing the Tempus Simia."

"Good work," the eyepatch-wearing figure on the Kimmuncator's monitor answered. "We'll be at the site in five minutes. Director out."

True to her word, Dr. Betty Director, head of Global Justice, and her top agent Will Du had arrived at the temple, leading a team of GJ officers to finish mopping up. "On the down side, Monkey Fist made his escape," Kim had briefed Dr. Director on the situation, "but on the up side, the Tempus Simia's safe."

"No doubt the mission wouldn't have gone south," Will Du added haughtily, regarding Ron with a sour stare, "if you'd have left that bungler Stoppable at home."

Kim's head snapped toward Agent Du, her eyes staring daggers at the overbearing agent. "You want to take this outside, Agent?" she snarled at Du.

"Face it, Kim," Du returned, "as long as you associate with that amateur, you'll never reach your full potential. I swear, that damn gopher has more brains than he does!"

Kim stood up, getting into the GJ agent's face. "You listen here, Will Doofus," she snarled, "if you ever dis Ron again and I find out about it, I'll put you in traction! And Rufus is a mole rat, not a gopher!"

"Neutral corners, children!" Dr. Director shouted, grabbing the attention of both Kim and Du. "Kim, you and Ron both did well under the circumstances," Dr. Director announced after a few moments of stunned silence. "Property damage seems to be at a minimum, and none of the exhibits themselves were stolen or damaged. I spoke with the curator of the museum just before arriving here; with Fiske still at large, we agreed it would be prudent to have a GJ agent standing guard over the exhibit until new security systems could be installed tomorrow morning." Glancing at her junior agent, she added, "And Agent Du just volunteered to stand guard tonight."

Will Du spun his head around in distraught surprise. "Wha-wha-when did I volunteer?" he stammered uncomfortably.

Dr. Director regarded him with the calm malice of a school-teacher catching her students cheating on a test. "Just now, when you treated Possible and Stoppable with contempt."

"But, I had plans for tonight—" he pleaded feebly.

"Well," his superior officer replied, "now you have new plans."

"But, ma'am—"

"Dismissed!" she barked, ending the discussion. Will Du snapped a salute and sadly returned to the exhibit hall, reluctantly preparing for his vigil.

Kim smirked at the discomfited agent as she and Ron left for home. "Bus—" she whispered mockingly. "Ted."

* * *

They mutually decided not to ride the boogie-boards home, and instead carried the lightweight devices as they walked home. The walk back to the Possible residence was relatively silent. Ron hadn't said two words since they left the museum, and Kim recognized the dark mood that Ron was experiencing. For all his easy-going laid-back charm, there was no one who was harder on Ron than himself. His clumsiness had caused him no end of embarrassment over the years, especially since he first joined Kim Possible in her world-saving activities. And she did have to admit that she ended up saving his life more often than not. But he had saved hers nearly as often, and it busted her butt to see jerks like Will Du (who, from Kim's recollection of the time they worked together, would need to hone his skills to qualify for 'inept') riding Ron like that. Bonnie Rockwaller didn't bother them, no matter how often she called Ron 'loser', but Will Du's taunts stabbed at them. He was supposed to be an adult, not an overgrown teen bully! 

"Hey, Ron," Kim approached him slowly, "don't let Du get you down. You did good."

"Yeah?" Ron answered sullenly. "When exactly did I do good, before or after my bo-staff collapsed? Man, I came off looking like a prize chump!"

"Hold it right there, Ronald Dean Stoppable," Kim answered sternly. "Let's get off the self-pity fiesta now. Yes, there are still some bugs in the bo-staff, but I'm gonna chat with Wade later about that. I saw you handling that staff, and you looked pretty sweet. Just don't use it as a pole vault for the time being."

Ron shook his head sadly. "It's not the staff, KP," he muttered. "It was the monkeys. Every time I think I'm over that whole monkey-phobia, that ol' knuckle-dragger Monkey Fist shows up and it's 'Summer at Camp Wannaweep' all over again!"

Kim placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Ronnie. Okay, it tanks that Fist got away, but we stopped him from grabbing the Tempus Simia, so I'm putting this one in the 'win' column. Okay?" Ron's lips upturned slightly, but Kim recognized that the gesture was more for her benefit.

As they neared Kim's house, Kim turned shyly toward Ron. "We still have time for the rest of our study-date," she suggested.

Ron shook his head again, his hand massaging the back of his neck, a nervous tic Kim recognized as Ron fighting off humiliation. "I'm gonna pass on that, Kim. Sorry, but I just wanna crawl into bed for the night. It's not you, it's just that—I'm just exhausted, Kim. You wouldn't want me konking out on your lap, would you?"

Kim nodded, understandingly. "I understand," she said, stepping forward to give Ron a peck on his lips. "But we're still on for tomorrow afternoon, right?"

Ron furrowed his brow for a second, then said, "Oh, right. Lunchtime double-date with Monique and Felix. You sure you're up for that?"

"Up for a little Ron-shine?" she grinned coquettishly. "Don't worry, it'll be fun. We'll do a mall-crawl, pick up some new cargoes at Club Banana. Moni calls it 'retail therapy'. So I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Right," Ron answered as he turned around and headed for his home. "See ya there, KP." Under his breath he added, "That is assuming you want to be seen hanging with a loser like me."

He didn't think Kim heard him. He was wrong

* * *

Kim lifted her head from her pillow, wearily glancing at her alarm clock. The red LED display balefully showed 2:32. She allowed her head to fall dejectedly onto the pillow, and surrendered to the realization that she wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. 

She had considered calling Monique and asking for some advice, but she figured her friend would be sound asleep. And her mother was still working the late shift at Middleton Hospital, so she wasn't available to talk to.

She pulled her Pandaroo toy close to her face and asked, "So, what do I do about Ron?" Her beloved toy remained silent, prompting Kim to glower slightly. "Lot of help you were," she chuckled ruefully.

She was worried about Ron.

He was hurting inside, and she didn't know what to do.

There was no doubt in Kim's mind that Ron was the sweetest, funniest, most sensitive person she had ever known. She could never hope for a better best friend, or a more caring boyfriend. And she also knew, even if Ron didn't always have a clue, that he had potential to become so much more. She thought back to the moves he demonstrated with the bo-staff, before his unsuccessful attempt at pole-vaulting. She admitted to herself that Ron could have handled the vault better, but for awhile it seemed to be working. If he trained with it a little more, she knew that he could wield that stick like a master. She knew he had the skills in him; she witnessed it more than once, notably when she followed Ron to Japan with that Yori girl, to save the mysterious Master Sensei from DNAmy, just before the junior prom.

The prom.

Eric.

There was a name she'd prefer to forget. She thought she had found The One when she met Eric. Sweet, witty, kind, and no hardship to look at either. He was too good to be true. Literally, as it turned out; before what became known as the Diablo Incident was finished, he stood revealed as nothing more than a synthetic man, a biogenetic Synthodrone designed by Drakken to seduce her and break her spirits when she succumbed to his charms. And it worked. Drakken had broken her. For the first time in her life, Kim Possible was truly defeated.

Until another young man reminded her that she was better than that. That she could find happiness with someone more deserving. Someone who was real, for one thing. Someone sweet, witty and kind, all the things Eric pretended to be.

"Ron, do you really think there's someone for me out there?"

"Out there...in here..."

It didn't fully dawn on her until a week after the prom, after she and Ron danced together and shared their first kiss. Drakken had created Eric to be Kim's ideal man, and the one person that he had reminded her of most, in his laid-back personality, quirky sense of humor and sensitivity, was Ron. He was all those things. And she had been standing too close to see that until it was almost too late.

More than anything else, Kim wanted the world to see Ron as she saw him now. No, that wasn't entirely true. There was one thing she wanted more. She wanted Ron to see himself as she did. But his old insecurities always came back to ambush him. His fears, she realized, were his greatest obstacle. The one thing that stood in the way of his future, of his happiness.

It all boiled down to those summers he spent at Camp Wannaweep. She knew the stories; he had told them so many times, whether she was interested or not, that she could quote them chapter and verse. Forced to share a cabin with an irate monkey, swimming in polluted water, mosquitoes the size of Vespa scooters—she suspected that last part was exaggerated, but still—if he had never gone to Camp Wannaweep, she reasoned, he would not be so afraid.

"Oh, Pandaroo," she whispered again to her cherished Cuddle-Buddy, "if there was only a way to go back there, to stop Ron from having to go to Wannaweep—"

As the words escaped her lips, an idea began to germinate. An outlandish idea. An idea that Kim began to dismiss as impossible.

Then her father's voice sounded in her mind; "Just remember, Kimmie-cub, nothing's impossible for a Possible."

Bolting to a sitting position, she retrieved her Kimmunicator from her nightstand and punched in the code she had committed to memory so long ago. The small screen flickered to life, and Wade Load's face appeared before her. "What's up, Kim?" the pajama-clad prodigy asked.

"Oh," Kim blushed slightly, "Sorry, Wade. Didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't worry, Kim," he answered. "I was up anyway. Late-night classic sci-fi marathon on cable tonight. 'Day the Earth Stood Still', followed by 'Forbidden Planet'. So, what can I do ya for?

"Wade," Kim asked quietly, "what can you tell me about the Tempus Simia?"

Wade pulled up a browser window on his computer. "Did a little research earlier. According to this one article, the Tempus Simia was one of a handful of monkey totems crafted around the same time as that monkey icon that Monkey Fist conned you and Ron into helping him steal three years ago."

"So it's tied in with that whole Mystic Monkey mojo thing, huh?"

"Right," Wade answered. "But according to the legends, this one is more powerful than the others. Legends tell of the Tempus Simia being used to change the courses of major battles during the Feudal era in Japan, by altering the outcome after the fact. The Tempus Simia was supposed to allow its possessor the ability to travel through time. But it was used only once as a weapon of war; evidently it ended up destroying both armies, and the few remaining survivors realized it was too powerful to ever be used again, so they kept it locked away in an abandoned monastery, near the Yamanouchi Ninja School. More recently, the head of the Yamanouchi School, Master Sensei, agreed to allow the Tempus Simia to be loaned to museums around the world, including the Tri-Cities Museum. No explanation was given for his actions so far."

Kim pondered Wade's words for a moment. _It could work, _she thought. _It just might—_

"Wade," she announced, "can you do me a solid?"

"Name it and claim it," Wade smiled.

"Can you give me a schematic of the Tri-Cities Museum?" Kim asked. "Especially the security lay-out."

"Any reason?" Wade questioned his long-time friend.

Kim paused for half-a-second. She was not comfortable with lying to a trusted ally, but she reasoned that the fewer people who knew her plan, the fewer people would be hurt if it went south. "Let's just say I'm worried about Monkey Fist. He's still out there, and with the broken skylight and the shut-off security alarm, it would be just like him to try and steal the monkey again now that it's unprotected."

"What about Agent Du? Isn't he on guard?"

Kim scowled. "Like I said, Wade. It's unprotected."

Wade chuckled knowingly. "Right. I'm downloading the information into the Kimmunicator. You should have it in ten seconds."

"Please and thank you," she responded brightly. When the download was completed, she smiled. "You never cease to rock, Wade."

"Kim," Wade said suddenly before she could disconnect the line. "—Just be careful."

Kim nodded, understanding Wade's concerns. He was no fool. "I will, Wade. Kim out."

* * *

Will Du continued his silent vigil, scanning the darkened hallways of the museum for any sign of Monkey Fist or any of his minions. For the hundredth time he sighted nothing. And for the hundredth time he grumbled about the poker game he was missing because of that upstart Possible and her stooge sidekick. 

He groused slightly and returned to his duty. Another ten hours of guard duty before the museum opened. Ours is not to reason why, he reminded himself.

A faint creaking sound overhead caught the agent's attention. He primed his taser-rifle and followed the sound to an air conditioner vent in the ceiling. "Whoever you are," he announced, standing directly under the vent, "come down with your hands up."

"If you insist," a chirpy voice announced. A figure fell through the vent, kicking Agent Du hard in the jaw. A rapid karate chop to the neck knocked him unconscious almost immediately. As his eyelids closed, he thought he could recognize the intruder's long honey-red hair.

"Sleep tight, Will Du," Kim Possible whispered through to the prone agent. "You won't have anything worse than a headache when you wake up. And don't worry, I'm not here to steal anything. In fact, if I'm right, I can do what I came her to do without leaving the exhibit." The black-clad herione immediately strode toward the Tempus Simia.

Standing ten yards from the relic, Kim stopped and pulled a can of hairspray out of her equipment bag. After inhaling deeply, she pointed the can toward the icon and sprayed for five seconds. The mist coalesced over the floor of the exhibit room, and Kim smiled grimly as the spray particles revealed a web of red light beams. Obviously Betty Director had thought ahead and set up motion sensors around the perimeter of the exhibit.

Obviously, Betty Director wasn't expecting a cheerleader/gymnast to try and steal the Tempus Simia. Kim gauged the spaces between the motion-sensor beams, her mind doing the geometry, determining where and how to approach the monkey statue.

A sudden hammer-strike to the base of her skull sent her reeling, but she regained her composure quickly and landed on her feet with a quick roll. "What the—" she started but was unable to finish as her attacker lunged at her again. Able to see her attacker now, Kim was able to dodge another blow, executing a neat back flip and landing on her feet. She sized up her new opponent; her attacker wore black karate gi, head wrapped in a black mask that left only the eyes exposed. The form was lithe and slender, and judging from the curves on the form's body, female.

"Okay, sister," Kim snarled quietly. "If you're working for Monkey Fist, then you couldn't have picked a worse night to get on my bad side."

She crouched low before springing into the air and toward the ninja, her hands prepared to deliver a quick blow to her neck. The ninja dove out of Kim's reach easily, pulling something out of the cuff of her boot as she flew past Kim's body. A sudden slicing pain in her arm sent Kim sprawling to the ground. She looked at her arm and saw that the fabric of her sleeve was cut cleanly. A thin reddening line was visible on her exposed skin. She glared back at the ninja, and noticed that she was now brandishing two small metallic handheld fans. The edges of the fans looked to be honed to a razor's fineness.

Kim stopped short at the sight of the two fans. She only knew of one person who used such fans as weapons. "No," she whispered, "it couldn't be her." The ninja then removed the coverings over her head, revealing her pale olive-toned face and straight black hair. She regarded Kim with a look of calm defiance, and Kim blanched as her suspicions were confirmed.

"Yori."

"Forgive me, Possible-sama," Yori answered, her posture calm but tense, her face a grim mask of determination. "I have no wish to fight you, but I know what you intend to do, and I cannot allow you access to the Tempus Simia."

* * *

Return to Top 


	2. Infinite Possibilities

Chatper two  
Infinite Possibilities

_"If you don't like the effects, don't produce the cause."  
–George Clinton and the Funkadelics_

Ever since she first encountered the young female ninja, Yori had always been a mystery to Kim Possible. From their brief acquaintance during a mission involving Monkey Fist and DNAmy, Kim was aware of only three things regarding Yori; that she was a capable combatant, that she was somehow tied to Ron's experiences as an exchange student in Japan and that she was seriously attracted to Ron. When Kim had questioned her regarding her feelings toward Ron, Yori only replied, "We share a bond of honor." Kim respected Yori, even liked her. But even if she wasn't quite ready to admit it, she still had issues regarding the martial artist and her relationship with Ron. Or as Monique would eloquently observe, Kim was "so jeallin'" over Yori.

Now Kim regarded the lithe young woman standing opposite her. The woman's posture was tense, a coiled spring waiting to be released. Her almond-shaped brown eyes radiated quiet confidence, grim determination. She stood silently between Kim and the Tempus Simia, and she would not give easily.

"Yori," Kim warned quietly. "I'm not here to fight, and I'm not here to steal the Tempus Simia."

"I know why you are here, Possible-sama," Yori answered, her Japanese accent flavoring her words. "Master Sensei had foreseen what you intend to do this night. You wish to use the Tempus Simia to alter the flow of history. And I cannot allow that."

Kim paced slowly around Yori, their eyes locking intently. "Amp down the drama, Yori," she explained. "I'm not trying to do anything major. I'm not going to try and kill Hitler, or board the Titanic and suggest that the captain steer the boat a little more South. I'm only trying to help Ron. Y'know, Stoppable-san?"

Kim was well aware of Yori's affection for Ron, and hoped that mentioning his name would give her leverage against the young ninja. If her bringing up Ron had affected Yori, she didn't show it. "Ron-san, yes. You wish to eliminate his fears. You see his fears as his failing, and wish to help him."

"Exactly," Kim answered. "No harm no foul, right?"

"Do you think you can do this?" an edge of anger sharpened Yori's voice. "Do you believe that you can simply travel to a key moment in his past and alter what has happened?"

"That's the general idea, yeah."

"And how do you plan to create this change?" Yori asked. "How would the younger Stoppable-san react to seeing you as you are now? How will you explain yourself to him?"

Kim shrugged her shoulders in calm repose. "I wasn't even thinking of seeing him. I was planning on just dropping a letter to the Health Inspector's Office, and have them look into that toxic spill upriver of Camp Wannaweep. They close down the camp, Ron doesn't have to spend the summer there, and all's right with the world. I don't even have to run into anyone."

"And you believe that you can do this thing?" Yori asked plainly.

Kim shrugged her shoulders. "Check the motto," Kim replied, her standard answer to any challenge. "I can do anything."

Yori regarded Kim with a mind-reader's stare for a moment. She then started to chuckle ruefully. "Possible-sama, your arrogance is as boundless as your talent! You believe you can alter Ron-san's existence, his very soul, as easily as you can alter the cut of a dress? If I were not so angered by your presumption, I would be amused!"

Kim clenched her fists, a familiar rage welling inside her. She had to remind herself of the sensor beams over the floor between her and the Tempus Simia, or she would have charged ahead in her anger to claim the idol. "You wanna back up that mouth, Yori?" she crouched low in a challenging posture, her right hand extended in a karate kata position.

"You would challenge me?" Yori almost sounded casual as she countered Kim's stance with a defensive position.

"I'm not here for a territory match, Yori," Kim intoned grimly. "I'm doing this for Ron."

"Are you?" Yori challenged. "Or are you doing this for yourself? Some sense that Ron-san is unworthy of you, perhaps? That he doesn't fit in your 'food chain'?"

The fierceness of Yori's accusation hit Kim like a fist in the gut. She pulled back from her pose and stared darkly at Yori. "What are you saying? I love Ron! He's had my back ever since Pre-K! I owe him, Yori! All I want is to help him!"

Yori stood up from her defensive stance and stared levelly into Kim's eyes again. She nodded, somehow satisfied with the honesty in the red-haired heroine's words. "You can do anything, Possible-sama?" she smiled as she asked the question. Before Kim could answer, Yori launched herself into a backflip, landing on her hands neatly between the sensor beams that still glowed dimly in the haze of the hairspray Kim had used to illuminate them. With a smooth cartwheel, Yori reached the pedestal where the Tempus Simia stood and touched the brow of the monkey statue.

A muffled implosion of air startled Kim from behind her. Kim turned around and watched, awestruck, as a pure white light glowed and expanded behind her. The light seemed to take the shape of a portal. "If you can do anything," Yori challenged, "then prove it. Step into the portal and see the results of your tampering. See what would happen if you were to remove the source of Ron-san's fears."

Kim looked at the portal, disbelieving. "Wha-what's happening here?" she turned her attention back to Yori. "What's going on?"

"The timestream is surprisingly flexible," Yori answered plainly. "With the power of the Tempus Simia, you may witness the results of your actions before you perform them. Do you dare to see the effect of your cause, Possible-sama?"

Kim gulped as she considered the reality of Yori's words. She could almost hear Ron's voice in her head; _Time travel. A cornucopia of disturbing concepts._ She stared into the maw of light before her, and recognized her own fear as she considered what Yori offered.

_I have to know,_ Kim nodded. _I have to know what happens..._

She stepped into the portal, and into the timestream...

* * *

She was surrounded by darkness. Indistinct ebon shapes against a midnight backdrop. She wasn't sure if she was actually seeing them or experiencing them with some other sense. Her body seemed to have no weight, no mass, no dimension. _So this is time-travel,_ Kim pondered as she considered the formlessness into which she dove headlong. _Next time, I'll take the plane. _

"Come to me, Possible-sama," Yori's voice intoned, seemingly from everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. Kim focused on the voice and felt her body gravitate toward a single point, a beacon in the chaos around her. She saw the young ninja, kneeling before a reflecting pond that seemed to form from the ebon substance of this realm out of time. She lighted next to Yori and knelt beside her.

"Your heart is noble," Yori declared, the tenseness she displayed in the museum fading, replaced by serenity. "And I doubt not that your intentions are honorable. But you would jump headlong into time, recklessly pursuing this goal above all others." Kim started to speak, to defend herself, but Yori lifted her hand to gently silence her. "Your determination is an admirable trait, Possible-sama. Your intelligence, your confidence, your desire to do good. These things make you who you are. But what you propose is no easy feat."

Yori picked up a small stone, and admired it for a moment. "You consider time to be some sort of fabric," Yori continued. "Like a tapestry, a vast design that could perhaps be unaffected by the removal of a single thread. Or a garment to be mended; if one portion of the fabric is worn, you feel it can be mended without cost to the rest of the garment." Returning her gaze to the reflecting pool, she continued; "But time is far more complex than that. It is like a pool, the still surface of the waters. Throw a pebble into the pool, and the ripples will spread out, until the entire surface is affected. Do you understand me, Possible-sama?"

Kim stared at Yori blankly; despite her innate intelligence, she found that she was grasping wildly at the concepts Yori was enlarging to her. Yori nodded, knowing Kim's confusion. "Then it will be my honor," Yori smiled gently, "to enlighten you. Look—" Yori gestured back to the pond. As Kim watched the pond, Yori threw the stone she held into the pond, and Kim watched as the ripples expanded to encompass the whole surface...

* * *

Kim Possible had just finished the grilled-cheese sandwich her mother had made her when she heard the front door swing open. The ten-year-old girl perked her ears as her mother greeted the boy at the door. "Hey there, Mrs. Dr. P!" a familiar voice chimed. Kim turned around and smiled as she saw her best friend stroll through the door.

"Ron!" she clapped her hands gleefully as she stood up from the chair and met him in the living room. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a generous hug, prompting him to protest, "Aw, cut it out, Kim, cooties!"

"Sorry," Kim giggled as she released her long-time best friend. "I'm just surprised to see you here. Weren't you going to Camp Wannaweep for the summer?"

"Yeah, I was," Ron answered, grinning hugely. "But the trip got cancelled at the last minute, when the health inspectors closed the camp for the summer! But hey, I didn't wanna go there anyway! I wanted to spend the summer with my bestest friend in the world!"

"Coolio!" Kim cheered. She grabbed Ron by the hand and led him to the family computer. "C'mon, I wanna show you something. I got an idea for making some money over the summer. I'm going to do babysitting, and I'm even setting up a website so people can go online to ask me to sit for them..." The young redhead cheerfully continued to explain her plans to the slightly befuddled Ron.

* * *

"It's over, Drakken!" Kim jumped in front of the blue-skinned criminal, determination visible in the set of her jaw. Kim and Ron had tracked Dr. Drakken to his new lair when the scientist in question had threatened to release his latest weapon of world domination. Drakken and his right hand woman Shego had succeeded in stealing an EMP cannon from a nearby military base, and the would-be world conquerer was now gloating over his triumph.

"On the contrary, Kim Possible!" Drakken gloated. "Behold!" With a theatrical wave of his hand, Drakken grabbed the handle of an enormous lever next to the weapon and pulled it toward him. Metal groaned in protest and huge gears shifted and spun, lifting the steel platform where he had bolted the EMP cannon upward, toward an opening skylight. Drakken laughed victoriously as he and Shego rode the platform.

"Ron!" Kim called out to her partner.

"Way ahead of ya, KP!" Ron answered as they grabbed their grappling guns and fired at the platform. The pitons held firm and the grapplers carried Kim and Ron quickly toward the rising platform as it carried the villains and their toy through the skylight and finally stopping high above Mount Middleton. Within seconds, the teen adventurers scaled the elevated platform and leapt nimbly to its surface. With a flick of a switch, their grappling cables recoiled silently into their guns.

"Soon, Shego," Drakken gloated, oblivious to the intruders on the platform, "we'll send Middleton back to the Dark Ages! Every device more sophisticated than an oscillating fan will be shorted out by the power of the EMP cannon! Their entire infrastructure will collapse into chaos!"

"Uh, Drakken," Ron chimed in, causing Drakken to stare at the blond teenager, "are you done ranting now? Because, y'know, we hate to interrupt a good rant. And yours are the best, really. I mean it, serious comedy gold here."

"Kim Possible!" Drakken shouted in disbelief. Turning to Ron, he added, "And—uh—drawing a blank here—"

"Why do you always act surprised, Drakken?" Kim asked nonchalantly. Grabbing her Kimmunicator, Kim shouted, "Wade! Now!"

"On it," a child's voice chimed from the transceiver of her Kimmunicator, which Kim pointed at the cannon. After three seconds, she pocketed the device and crossed her arms.

"Uh, you forget something, Princess?" Shego asked from her vantage point at the control seat of the cannon.

"Wait for it, Shego," Kim smiled. "Oh, and I'd duck and cover if I were you."

Less than a second after Kim spoke, the control panel's lights started to flare red. Shego swung her head to glare at the control screen. "Regulators are off-line!" she shouted. "Power levels spiking to critical! Drakken, this thing's gonna blow!"

"Wha—" Before Drakken could finish, the control panel of the EMP cannon flamed out in a shower of sparks, sending Shego diving away from her seat just a millisecond shy of being burnt by the trashed device.

"Virus," Kim explained as she and Ron circled around the hapless pale blue scientist. "We knew that the EMP cannon's electronics would be shielded from its own EMP burst, but not from a wireless download signal. So I downloaded a virus with my Kimmunicator."

"Next time," Ron recommended, "don't build your lair in a wi-fi hot spot."

"Aww," Drakken complained, "and the real-estate agent assured me that that was one of the plusses of this neighborhood! Oh well," he turned to his cohort. "Shego! Time to earn your paycheck!"

"You got it, Drakken," Shego snarled as she regarded her nemesis. The jade-skinned mercenary, having returned to her feet after tumbling out of the control chair, lunged toward Kim and Ron, a mirthless grin plastered on her face. "Here's the part I like, Princess!" Shego snarled as she pushed past Ron and fired a green plasma burst toward Kim. Kim dodged the energy missile with ease, somersaulting toward Shego. "Ron!" she called out. "I got Shego, you take care of Drakken."

"You got it, KP!" Ron answered, charging the mad-scientist wannabe. Drakken threw the first punch, telegraphing it sufficiently that Ron was able to dodge it easily.

Kim concentrated on her opponent, her eyes focused on Shego's glowing hands. "Yo, Kimmie!" Shego taunted her opponent. "Looks like the buffoon's been working out! Maybe I should look him up, y'know, after I've taken you down."

"Over my dead body, Shego!" Kim growled as she landed in a catlike stance ten yards away from her adversary.

"If you insist," Shego announced, green energy coalescing in her hands. Kim barely dodged the first ball of green fire that Shego launched at her, but the second one connected, hard enough to knock Kim ten feet backward and off of the platform.

As she began plummeting, Kim reached for her grappler-gun, only to find herself jerking to a stop. Thin cable whipped around her torso three times, securing her firmly. Within seconds she found herself pulled upward, back toward the scaffold. With a neat flip, Kim landed on her feet in a crouched position, glaring hard at her rescuer. Ron stood in front of her, casually toying with the grappler he used to pull Kim to the platform.

"Ron," she groaned, "what are you doing?"

"Saving your life, KP," Ron smiled. "You're welcome, by the way."

"Thanks," Kim grumbled, "but I didn't need the save. You were supposed to deal with Drakken, remember?"

"Hey," Ron's pleasure at having saved Kim faded under the glare of her accusing green eyes. "I saw an opening at I took it."

"Yeah," Kim pointed over Ron's shoulder, a distinct frown forming on her lips. "So did our playmates." Ron turned around and followed Kim's finger.

Drakken flew off strapped to a jet-pack, grabbing Shego by the armpits. "KIM POSSIBLE!" he shouted to his arch-nemesis as he flew out of sight, "You may think you're all that, but YOU'RE NOT!" Inside of ten seconds, the villains were no more than a speck in the distance.

Ron turned back toward Kim, only to be greeted by a disdainful glare. "Look, Ron, I know you were trying to help, but I didn't need the save." Holding up her modified hair-dryer-turned-grappling-gun, she added, "I don't carry this thing around to keep my hair from getting frizzy."

Ron winced slightly as he glanced back to the point in the sky where Drakken and Shego had disappeared. "Sorry I screwed up, KP."

Kim nodded, her features softening from her hard scowl to a more sympathetic frown. "Well, we stopped their plans for now, so that's all good." Placing a hand on Ron's shoulder, Kim added, "We just gotta focus on teamwork more, 'kay?"

"Yeah," Ron grunted, the sole sign that Kim's words had registered

* * *

"Pull the ripcord, Ron!" Kim shouted at the free-falling figure below her. "I said, pull it now!" The seconds slowed to a crawl before the white parasail billowed from Ron's pack. Kim breathed a sigh of relief; the last few times she and Ron went hang gliding, Ron had begun pushing the limits of how long he could remain in freefall before deploying the chute, a hobby that had Kim increasingly worried.

Ron had arrived on the snowfield minutes before Kim, and was removing the chute from his jacket as she descended. "Beat you down here, slowpoke," he announced as Kim touched ground and waited for the chute to collapse behind her. Rufus poked his head out of the left pocket of Ron's cargo pants and chirped, "Yeah, beatcha!"

Kim removed her chute's tethers, and marched slowly toward Ron, anger flaring in her green eyes. "What the hell's wrong with you, Stoppable?" she shouted. "I keep telling you, count ten then pull the ripcord! Not fifteen or twenty, ten! This isn't a race to see who gets to the mountain first!"

"I thought we were in a hurry," Ron glared back, "what with that climbing team stranded on the north face of Mount Middleton and all!"

"You wait too long to pull the ripcord," Kim reminded Ron, desperately reining in her temper before it ran away from her, "and the chute won't break your fall enough. You'll hit the ground hard enough to break your legs, or even end up pulped over the side of the mountain! I have enough to worry about with this rescue mission; I don't need you turning every mission into an Extreme Sports Show! You're worse that Adrena Lynn; at least her stunts were faked!"

Ron turned toward his chute and began gathering up the discarded fabric and rolling it up. "Okay, so I've been getting off on freefall during our last few jumps. I know when to pull the chute and I haven't broken anything yet, what's the drama?"

"It isn't just the jumps, Ron," Kim complained, her patience wearing to the nub. "When we were rescuing divers from that tidal wave near Sydney last week, you were trying to boogie-board a hundred-foot-wave—"

"To stop the last diver from being swept out toward a coral reef," Ron interrupted.

"—then you drove an off-road four-wheeler over a lava floe in Hawaii before that—"

"To rush supplies to that village, KP!"

"The Coast Guard had that taken care of, Ron!" Kim found herself shouting again. "Your head isn't in the game anymore, it's like you've become a thrill-junkie or something! Like our missions aren't important to you unless you can get an adrenaline surge out of them! And sooner or later, you're gonna get yourself or both of us killed. And I can't deal with that right now!"

Kim's words hung heavily in the air as the atmosphere became more and more charged with tension. Rufus wisely ducked into his master's pocket, not wanting to witness the inevitable fallout.

Ron faced Kim, his jaw set as stone, his brown eyes hooded and unreadable. "What are you saying, Kim? You don't want me to come along?"

"Not this time, Ron," Kim answered. "I can't concentrate on saving the hikers and keeping you out of trouble. I need to know that your head's in the game. I need to know that you'll have my back. And right now, I don't know that." She swallowed hard, wishing with all her heart that she didn't have to finish her thought. "Ron, I don't want you joining me on any missions for the time being. Maybe when you can prove to me that you'll start focusing, and taking things more seriously, we can talk about it in a few months, but for now, I can't take that risk." The silence that followed her pronouncement was almost tangible, an oppressive force.

Ron turned his back away from Kim, not letting her see his face, as he returned to the task of rolling his chute. Kim tried to approach him, but sensed that her approach would be unwelcome. "Look," she offered, "I'll contact Wade, have him send a ride to pick you up—"

"Don't do me any favors, Kim," Ron growled harshly, refusing to turn his head to face his long-time and now former best friend. "I'll find my own way down the mountain. You go play hero."

The pain in Ron's voice wasn't sharp, it was blunted. A dull dead thud, like the door of a vault or the lid of a coffin being closed. Kim turned away sadly. "If that's what you want, Ron," she nodded. "I'll see you around."

"Only if I don't see you first," Ron intoned, that dead thud in his voice again.

As Kim left Ron to track down the lost hikers, she dared to glance over her shoulder one last time. As Ron finished rolling his chute, Rufus poked his head out of his pocket and stared at Kim forlornly.

Kim swallowed her tears one last time and returned to the task at hand. She would deal with the fragments of her friendship with Ron later, once the hikers were safe.

* * *

Ron had finally had it. Not only was he still on the outs with his best friend, but the new corporate owners of Bueno Nacho were destroying his favorite hang-out. First, they took nacos off the menu, then they started introducing some lame kid's meal package, and now they discontinued providing flexi-straws with their drinks. For Ron, this was literally the final straw. With the assistance of Wade's internet skills, Ron had the phone number for Bueno Nacho's corporate headquarters, and he was going to give the company's new president a piece of his mind. He plugged his quarter into the slot of the nearby payphone, dialed the number and waited through the hold music.

"Hola, Bueno Nacho, el Presidente speaking." Ron cringed when he heard the voice at the end of the phone. Doctor Drakken.

A huge calloused hand grabbed the handset from Ron's fingers. "Mr. Drakken is a very busy man!" the new head cook of Bueno Nacho(whom Ron now recognized as one of Drakken's goons) barked in Ron's face. Ron backed away from the thug, keeping his eyes on his opponent at all times, until he heard the rhythmic clockwork sound of a hundred toy Diablos marching toward him. "What the—" he started to mutter to himself as he turned to the sight of the sinister-looking toys marching in eerie unison toward him. "You gotta be kidding!" He rushed to his scooter and pulled a crowbar from behind the seat. Brandishing the iron rod like a baseball bat, he waded into the tide of miniature robots. The first rows of toy monsters attacked Ron with pincers and sharp blades emerging from their arms, but Ron quickly mowed them down with his makeshift weapon. Rufus joined his master, delivering crippling karate blows with his paws.

Within minutes, all the Diablos were converted to twisted pieces of scrap, save one. Ron had grabbed the last of the demon toys, holding it firmly as it thrashed in his grip. Ron glanced around briefly, noticing that Drakken's thug had vacated. "Booyah!" he shouted in triumph. "So, Rufus, whaddya you think we should do with Tiny here?"

Rufus jumped up and down excitedly, squeaking, "Kim, Kim!"

Ron considered Rufus's suggestion for a moment, before delivering a curt wave of his hand. "Right, so she can take credit for saving the day again? I don't think so, Rufus. She wants me to prove I got my head in the game, then I'll prove it! I'll figure out what's going on with Li'l Hot Stuff here without Kim's help." Rufus lowered his tiny head sadly; as deeply as he loved his master, Rufus had to acknowledge that he could be hard-headed and obstinate.

Just like Kim. Maybe the reason that they were not getting along was because they were too much alike.

Ron placed the robot on an outdoor table and glared hard at the ugly little toy. "What's your big secret, little guy, huh?" he pondered aloud as he contemplated the device. For a toy, it proved quite sophisticated, and exceedingly dangerous, at least in large numbers. But one single Diablo couldn't do any damage, could it?

A high-pitched pinging tone vibrated suddenly in the air, causing Rufus to place his paws over his ears. Ron glanced about, hoping to pinpoint the source of the sound, but was then interrupted by a different noise, the sound of twisting metal and electricity. Ron turned his attention back to the robot, only to stand in jaw-dropping surprise as the monster began to enlarge before his eyes. Within seconds it had shot up three feet and was still growing. The smiley-faced head morphed into a metallic snarl, its mouth gaping and frowning. Its now massive arms reached for the sky as it towered ten, twenty, thirty feet over Ron's head. The robot's head rotated toward Ron, eyes flaring like searchlights. A cannon-like device sprouted from the robot's right arm and aimed itself at Ron. Rufus scampered back into the relative safety of his master's cargo pocket.

"Hoo-boy!" he breathed as he backed away from the monster and toward his scooter.

* * *

For the first time since the Mount Middleton incident, Kim was genuinely happy as she leaned into the body of her dance partner. Warm, sensitive, serious, witty, an incredible dancer, to say nothing of how well he could fill out a white tuxedo. What more could a girl want in her prom date?

She had all but given up hope of finding a date for the dance when Eric first entered her life in the cafeteria. Josh was taking Tara, Brick had hooked up with Bonnie, and most of the eligible male students had already paired off by the time she had returned from rescuing Japanese toy-manufacturer Nakasumi from the clutches of Shego (a sitch that still baffled her). And Ron wasn't an option this year; while he had managed to remain civil when they encountered each other on school grounds, he had pointedly avoided meeting her away from the school. Monique and Felix had tried to smooth over the troubled waters between the two former friends, but their efforts had failed to breach the chasm that had come between Kim and Ron. Then, of course, Drakken tried kidnapping her father, which just made the sitch even worse. If it wasn't for Eric, Kim would probably have skipped the dance completely.

Slowly, tenuously, their lips touched, the faintest of kisses, and yet Kim's heart was pounding as though she had just finished rappelling down Mount Middleton. As her body pressed into Eric's, Kim allowed the tensions of the last few weeks to fade completely away. There was no hesitancy, no doubt, just adoration. Eric's arms around her waist sheltered her. He made her feel safe, comforted, desired. No one had made her feel those things before. For the first time in her life Kim Possible was truly falling in love.

"Hey, Kim," Eric whispered in her ear as the slow-dance number they were swaying to ended. "Let's go outside for a moment. I want to show you something."

"I'd like that," Kim answered, smiling, her green eyes glowing with happiness. Eric took her hand and she followed him out of the school gym willingly.

As he escorted Kim out of the gym and into the night air, Eric gently placed his hands over her eyes. When Kim protested, giggling, Eric just answered, "Not now, Kim, it's a surprise."

Eric led Kim a few steps forward, waited a few seconds, then lifted his hands from her eyes. "Okay, Eric," Kim laughed, "what's your big surprise?"

"Look up," Eric nodded, his thousand-watt smile still in full force. Kim lifted her head and glanced at the night sky above her. The gibbous moon cast its pale reflected light, but a shape on the horizon caught Kim's attention.

Kim initially had mistaken the dark shape for a storm cloud, until it began to loom closer. The thing was dark red, human-like in shape, thirty feet long with a metallic sheen to its hull. It passed overhead, searchlight eyes scanning the area beneath its bulk, before landing beside Eric, a device protruding from its right arm resembling a laser cannon aimed at Kim's head. As it landed, more of the dark red robots appeared overhead, flying in formation, covering the night sky like a dreadful curtain.

"Wha-" Kim began, "what's that?"

"It's called a Diablo, Kimberly Anne Possible," the chiding and all-too familiar voice announced. "My latest and greatest creation!" Drakken and Shego emerged from the trees behind Eric, grins of pure malice plastered on their faces. Kim immediately galvanized into action, grabbing Eric's wrist. "Eric!" she screamed, "get out of here!" Eric stood firmly and grasped Kim's wrist, yanking her back into his arms.

"Actually, Kim," Eric announced calmly, "around here, I'm known as Synthodrone nine-oh-one." He clamped his hand down on Kim's shoulder, and before she could move, a blast of electricity rushed from his fingers and through her frame, shutting down her motor functions and causing her body to slump to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

The last thing she saw before consciousness deserted her was Eric's face, a scornful smile turning his lips, as Shego wrapped her arms around his neck.

* * *

When she regained consciousness, Kim found herself tied to something large and round. As she glanced around her, she noticed what looked like giant prop replicas of tomatoes, celery stalks, chili peppers and taco shells. A faded "Home of the Naco" sign overhead revealed her location; the main storage warehouse of Bueno Nacho, the place that used to be her favorite fast food joint. Hers and Ron's favorite place, before their rift. On the far wall, she noticed a huge high-definition video screen.

Minutes later, a door opened and Drakken stepped into the warehouse, Shego and Eric following behind. Instead of his regular blue scientist's coat, Drakken was sporting a well-tailored business suit. Eric was also dressed differently; instead of his tuxedo, he wore the red-and-black jumpsuit of one of Drakken's synthodrone henchmen. Kim shook her head in shame; the boy she thought she had loved had been working for her enemy since he first met her.

"Ah, Kim Possible!" Drakken smiled cruelly as he regarded his captive opponent. "So glad you could join me in my moment of triumph! After all, it just wouldn't be the same without you, would it?" He cackled madly as he withdrew a remote control from his jacket pocket and pointed it at the video screen. The blank screen crackled to life, revealing the horrific images of a squadron of Drakken's Diablo robots flying over Paris, London, Moscow, Tokyo and Washington DC.

"You might want to pay attention, Princess," Shego announced, her body leaning against Eric's. "Drakken may actually have come up with something this time."

"You're so right, Shego," Drakken gloated. "All those Diablo toys distributed into Bueno Nacho's 'Bueno Meals', awaiting the signal from my transmitter towers, to become my conquering army! And this time, Kim, my plan left nothing to chance! A perfect marriage of technology; Nakasumi's toy design and dear Daddy Possible's cybertronic breakthrough. And, to really stick a pin in it, one made-to-order syntho-hottie!" He slapped Eric a high-five, only to draw his hand back suddenly in pain, as though he had slapped a brick wall.

"So you weren't just making it up as you went along?" Shego asked semi-skeptically. Even she had to admit, the boss was on a roll tonight!

"And you questioned my research," Drakken snorted derisively.

"The slumber party?"

"Tut-tut, Shego," Drakken defended himself. "But at least I finally found your weakness, Kim! Boys! Boys, boys, boys, who will I go to the dance with, who's the perfect boy?"

Kim glared at the gloating villain, cold fury forming in the pit of her heart. Shego glanced at the young woman, her eyes widening. "Say, I just thought of something, Dr. D," Shego commented. "Isn't there someone missing at this party? Tallish, straw-colored hair, hangs with a meerkat or something like that?"

"It's a mole-rat," Eric corrected her, smiling.

"Oh yes, the buffoon," Drakken smiled. "Let me guess, Kim; you still expect whatever-his-name-is to rescue you? Oh, I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you on this one." He pointed his remote back at the vid-screen and chuckled darkly.

The image on the screen changed to a view of a street. The camera seemed to be looking down at the street from a great height, and moving rapidly along the street as it passed. Kim realized that the video was taken by a camera mounted on one of Drakken's Diablos. The camera soon fixed itself on a scooter that was clearly running away from the deadly robot. The driver of the scooter glanced back at his pursuer, and even beneath his helmet, Kim recognized the chocolate brown eyes staring at the steel monster. "Ron," she whispered.

"Hey, Tin Pants!" Ron taunted the monster, and Rufus poked his head out of his usual hiding place and shoot his tiny fist at the Diablo. "Bet you can't catch me!" Ron steered his scooter wildly, weaving through traffic as the monster flew in pursuit. At the first available ramp, he led the monster away from traffic, and the Diablo pursued him. The flame-thrower-arm extended before it, firing blasts at Ron's scooter. Maneuvering the scooter frantically, Ron managed to avoid the first two shots, but the third connected with the back of the scooter, blowing out the tire. Ron fell forward, tumbling into an ungainly heap.

Ron struggled to get to his feet, but his ankle had twisted painfully, making walking nearly impossible. Unable to escape, he turned stoically to face the technological terror that hovered over him. Rufus scurried out of the pocket and stood on his master's shoulder, defiantly making his last stand at Ron's side. "You want some, Rusty?" he groaned through his pain, determination in the set of his jaw. "Come get some!"

"No—" Kim gasped as she witnessed Ron's final moments.

The monster fired a gout of superheated plasma from its arm, searing the land beneath it a sooty black. Ron and Rufus didn't even flinch as the flames engulfed them.

"NOOOOOOO!" Kim screamed, tears stinging her eyes as she watched the charred remains of the bravest, most reckless young man she had ever known. Unable to free herself from Drakken's bonds, she lowered her head in misery. Ron was dead. Drakken was victorious.

Shego grinned sadistically as she witnessed Kim's unspoken surrender. "Hey," she announced brightly. "Let's see that again in instant replay!" With malicious glee, she hit a button on the remote, rewinding the footage back to Ron's final words. "You want some, Rusty? Come get some!"

"Turn it off—" Kim murmured hoarsely.

"What was that, Princess?" Shego chuckled as she replayed Ron's destruction over and over again.

"TURN IT OFF!" Kim screamed, the tears flowing freely from her eyes.

Shego switched the remote again, blacking out the vid-screen. "Aw, you're no fun anymore," she complained as she rejoined Drakken and Synthodrone 901.

"Just kill me and get it over with, bitch," Kim muttered, her voice dead in her throat, the fire that had flared in her eyes extinguished.

"That's just it, Kim," Drakken chuckled mirthlessly as he approached Kim. He stuck his face mere inches away from the fallen heroine, marking the tears that shone on her cheeks without a trace of pity. "I did more than kill you, Kim. I hurt you. And I wish to go on hurting you."

"Uh, Boss," Shego interrupted, "you do realize that you're quoting Star Trek II, don't you?" Drakken shot Shego a withering glare for daring to interrupt his moment of triumph. "Hey, just pointing it out," Shego grinned sheepishly.

"Boss!" one of Drakken's flunkies rushed into the warehouse. "Just got word on the police band! Global Justice is on their way! I think they're starting to notice the army of Diablos!"

"Oh well," Drakken laughed darkly, "it was a fun lair while it lasted! Come friends, let us away!" Shego and Synthodrone 901 vacated the warehouse without so much as a backward glance at Kim. Drakken remained for a moment, for one last twist of the knife. "Farewell, Kim Possible," he whispered venomously. "You thought you were all that, but now we both know that you're not." With those last words Drakken departed for the waiting VTOL craft that would fly him and his henchmen to freedom.

Kim didn't even try to break free of her bonds. She was completely spent, defeated in mind and body. Lacking the strength for anything else, she wept bitterly. She wept over her failure to recognize Eric as a threat. She wept over her realization that she had been expertly played. Above all else, she wept over the death of Ron Stoppable.

After what seemed like hours alone with only her self-pity, Kim heard gunshots and sirens in the distance. The warehouse doors flew open as a squad of black-clad GJ officers, led by Betty Director and Will Du, double-marched into the warehouse. "Agent Du," Betty commanded, pointing at Kim, "cut her down!" Will rushed to the bound redhead, grabbing the throwing knife from the sheath in his boot. With a quick swipe of the knife, he severed her bonds, and caught her as she collapsed to the floor.

Director approached Kim in hurried strides, her brow knitted in concern. "What happened, Possible? Where's Drakken?"

Kim slowly lifted her head to face Director, only to shy away from the gimlet glare of her good eye. "Drakken—Drakken won," she stammered helplessly. "I—I should have stuck to babysitting…" Again the tears flowed freely and Kim didn't even bother to wipe her eyes.

Director regarded the broken young woman before her for only a second. "Agent Du, get her out of here," she dismissed them both. "She's no good to us in this condition." Agent Du lifted Kim in his arms and gently carried the crying girl away from the battlefield.


	3. An Ever Fixed Mark

Chapter Three

An Ever Fixed Mark

* * *

_"Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead…But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you show me!" _

_—Charles Dickens, "A Christmas Carol" _

The Diablo invasion lasted only two hours, before Global Justice was able to shut down Drakken's transmitter tower, causing the menacing robots to revert back to harmless toys. During that period, they had wreaked incalculable levels of damage to most of the major cities in the world, and the death toll mounted to the tens of thousands.

Drakken and Shego became the subject of the most extensive manhunt in human history. Even nations that were openly hostile toward the United States lay aside their grievances to assist GJ and other world law enforcement organizations to bring down the madman responsible for the Diablos. Not that it was necessary; even those who had allied themselves with Drakken and Shego in the past, such as Duff Killigan and Professor Dementor, were willing to cooperate with law enforcement to bring them down. Senor Senor Sr. personally offered a million dollar reward for information leading to the felons' arrests, as his hacienda was destroyed by the Diablos, and his son Senor Senor Jr. was gravely injured in the attack.

Within two months, the criminals were captured, tried and convicted for crimes against humanity, including mass-murder. As the sentence of death was passed, onlookers couldn't help but notice the strange, satisfied smile on Drakken's face. It seemed to them that, despite his immanent death by electrocution, he was behaving as though he had won.

And in a way, he had.

* * *

Kim located the white marble stone, just where the undertaker had said it was. She sadly read the inscription; "Ron Stoppable. 1988-2005. Beloved son and friend." Next to his grave was a smaller marble slab, about the size of a CD case, that bore the inscription; "Rufus. 2000-2005. Beloved companion." She took the two stones she carried with her and placed one reverently on each of the graves, following Jewish custom. 

"Hey, Ron," she greeted the slab that marked the last resting place of her best friend since pre-K. "I'm sorry I haven't been by here sooner. But I guess I've been busy." 'Busy' didn't begin to describe it. She had spent the last six weeks convalescing at a Global Justice medical center. Her physical injuries were surprisingly minimal, but her emotional wounds were far deeper. By the time Will Du had escorted her to the center, she had reverted from nearly catatonic stupor to violent fits, thrashing and clawing at anyone within reach before the docs could sedate her.

The diagnosis had been post-traumatic stress disorder. For the next two weeks, she sat listlessly in her hospital room, seldom eating, barely registering her surroundings. Her parents and twin brothers, injured during the Diablo attack but recovering, visited her every day, staying at her bedside for hours on end. Dr. James Possible was there at her bedside the night she finally broke down, the façade of control finally shattered by the realization of her best friend's death. She sobbed brokenly, and all that Dr. Possible could do was hold his 'Kimmie-Cub' until the maelstrom passed.

Two weeks later, the doctors at Global Justice declared her fit enough to return home, although they stressed that she needed to avoid intense situations. After several agonizing discussions, James and Anne Possible agreed to lay down the law on Kim; for the foreseeable future, she would no longer go on missions or fight villains. She needed to heal before she could go and save the world.

They had expected a fight when they told Kim their decision. Instead, their daughter lowered her head and nodded slowly in full agreement.

"I'll try and visit here as often as I can, Ron," Kim promised her friend as she stood over his grave. "But it might be awhile. Mom, Dad, the Tweebs and I are moving. Our house got pretty trashed by the Diablos, and Mom got an offer from Go City General Hospital. Dad can still commute to the Space Center, and the schools in Go City are pretty good. Barkin's already transferred there. I guess most of Middleton's packing up and heading out now. After the Diablos got through, there wasn't much left of the town anyway." Sadly she turned to the bright blue sky overhead. "Besides, Go City's got its own heroes looking after it. Shego's sentencing somehow brought the rest of Team Go out of retirement. They've come back stronger than ever. I guess they're trying to atone for their sister's crimes. So I guess they don't need me pretending to be a hero." She could feel the tears starting again; she almost couldn't remember a time when she wasn't on the verge of tears.

_Be-be-beep-ep! _

Kim forlornly retrieved her Kimmunicator from her purse and pressed the comm button. "Wade?" she asked.

"Just thought you should know, KP," Wade announced, an edge of sorrow tingeing his voice, "the website's officially down."

"Thanks for letting me know, Wade," Kim nodded. "I'm sorry for the way things turned out."

"Don't be, Kim," the young computer-prodigy answered. "It was an honor to work with you."

Kim shook her head sadly. "You rock, Wade," she declared for the last time. "You have a good life, you hear?"

"You too, Kim," Wade answered. "You deserve one. Godspeed." The screen blacked out, and Kim switched the main power off. She knew that Wade was wrong; she didn't deserve happiness, not after her callousness cost her so much. She turned her back on Ron. Their last words to each other were either bitter or simply civil. She let the most important relationship in her life deteriorate, and now it was too late to correct her folly.

Placing her Kimmunicator on Ron's grave, she whispered, "I can't do it anymore. I can't save the world without you, Ron. I can't—"

Again the tears flowed, and again she didn't try to stop them. No longer able to remain near her friend's grave, she turned and ran away, the tears blinding her. She blundered through the graveyard, unheeding of the soft ground beneath her feet. Without warning, she stumbled headlong into an empty grave.

Unable, or unwilling, to stop running away, she fell...

* * *

Her body lurched violently as she thudded into her mattress, and as she sat up her heart hammered out a horrid tattoo in her chest. She glanced frantically, desperately taking in her surroundings. Pandaroo stared blankly at her from her pillow, her Kimmunicator was still in its recharging station on her nightstand and her alarm clock radio was blaring something by Coldplay. The red LED numbers flashed 7:00. 

"Oh…migod…" Kim gasped as the implications worked their way through her still half-sleeping mind. She grabbed the Kimmunicator and pressed the comm switch. After a few seconds, the screen flickered to life and Wade's smiling face greeted her. "Hey, Kim, what up?"

"Wade?" Kim asked quickly, "did I call you last night, asking about the Tempus Simia?"

"Nada, KP," Ron answered. "Why do you ask?"

"Uh, no reason," Kim answered hurriedly. "Any news from the museum since last night?"

"All quiet here," Wade assured her. "I piggybacked my signal onto a government security satellite and did a quick scan of the area last night and again just before you called, and so far there's no sign of anything out of the ordinary. Looks like GJ maintained security until the museum could replace the skylight that Monkey Fist crashed during his escape."

Kim stared blankly for a second, before Wade's words registered. "It didn't happen…" she whispered to herself. "Thanks, Wade," she replied brightly. "You rock, as ever." Kim switched off her Kimmunicator and released the breath she wasn't aware she was holding. The chain of events played itself out in her mind.

She had dreamed it all.

It didn't happen.

She didn't fight Yori in the museum.

She didn't use the Tempus Simia.

She didn't change the past.

Ron was alive—

"RON'S ALIVE!" Kim shouted joyously, not caring if her parents or even the Tweebs could hear her.

"Indeed he is, Possible-san," a firm, grandfatherly voice intoned behind her. Kim spun around, and shrieked slightly at the sight of Master Sensei standing before her. "Be at peace, child," Sensei raised his hand to silence her questions, "this is but a thought projection. I am still half a world away, at Yamanouchi."

Kim managed to gain her composure at the sight of the ancient warrior. "Does it freak Ron out when you do that to him?"

"The first few times, yes he did," Sensei smiled warmly. "I am glad to see that you are well, Possible-san, and that you passed the challenge that I set before you."

"Whoa, wait a sec," Kim stammered. "What challenge?"

"The Tempus Simia, of course," Sensei announced.

Kim stared levelly at Master Sensei. "You sent the Tempus Simia to Middleton," she stated, her mind putting pieces of the puzzle into place. "You were using it to test me?" Sensei nodded. "But why? I thought you were mainly concerned with Ron."

"I am indeed concerned with Ron Stoppable," Sensei assured her. "And as you are his beloved, and the most influential person in his life, I am naturally concerned about you, Possible-san."

"But—but why?" Kim asked. "Why test me?"

"Someday, Possible-san," the master of the Yamanouchi ninja academy responded, "you will understand. As for now, I only ask that you not tell Ron-san the details of last night's dream, at least for the time being. Soon, you will be able to tell him everything. But for now, it is best that he be unburdened."

Kim stared at Sensei's image blankly. The idea of keeping secrets from Ron, only months after their relationship had turned the corner from friendship to love, didn't sit easily with the young heroine. Sensei's hooded eyes remained unchanging, but a gentle fluctuation in his aura seemed to put Kim at ease.

But another thought occurred to her. "Sensei," Kim asked hesitantly. "Ron never told me everything that happened to him when he was attending your school, did he?"

Sensei nodded serenely. "He keeps the secret of Yamanouchi, not because he wishes to keep secrets from you but because I asked him to. Like you, he has no wish to deceive the one he loves. But for now, it is necessary that he do so. Soon, though, the time of secrets will pass. Be patient with each other when the time comes to learn and reveal the truth." Without understanding how she knew Sensei's words to be true, Kim accepted their truth in her heart. Where once, her knowing that Ron hadn't told her the whole truth should have made her angry, she instead felt a strange peace, and a sense of relief. He kept the secret, not because he wanted to deceive her, but because he made a promise to Sensei.

Sensei's image began to fade, and the elder warrior spoke one last time. "The time of trial will be soon, Possible-san. You and Ron-san will soon face your greatest challenge. And I have every confidence that you will succeed brilliantly. Take care, Kim Possible. Take care—" The thought image seemed to shimmer, as though a reflection on a mirror pool had been disturbed by someone skipping a stone across the waters. Then, the image was gone and Kim was again alone in her room.

_"It is like a pool, the still surface of the waters. Throw a pebble into the pool, and the ripples will spread out, until the entire surface is affected." _

Yori's words came back to haunt Kim. But this time she heard them.

It all came back to him, the greatest constant in her life. Ron Stoppable. Best friend, boyfriend, partner, sidekick, distraction, sounding board, listener. He was her compliment in every way. When Kim was headstrong, Ron would be cautious. When she plunged ahead, he would suggest an alternate route. When she became grim, he would dispense wisecracks. When she felt overwhelmed, he would remind her who she was. When she was brave, he would show fear.

"Let's face it Kim, you can do anything." her cousin Joss had told her once, while discussing Ron. "So facing all those dangers and villains, well, it's just like you say. No big. A fella filled with that much fear, always chargin' into action with you? Seems to me that's a _true_ hero."

Joss was right, Kim had realized. His fears, she had begun to realize, were a vital part of who he was. They were the obstacles he was able to overcome in order to become the Ron she knew and loved—yes, she could finally put the word to her emotion. She loved him, all of him, his fears, his anxieties, all of those things that, taken together, made him Ron Stoppable.

And for far too many years, she failed to see that. She disdained his attempts at levity, ignored his concerns, belittled his successes, or want him to change, to become something he wasn't. As if his past experiences in that regard didn't always lead to disaster; the new hairstyle, the muscle ring, the Naco royalties. Losing his essential Ron-ness, just to become something he wasn't.

Worse, she took him for granted, assumed that he would always be there, always have her back. And he always would. She was able to take him for granted, she realized, because she could. Because when it came down to the crunch, he proved as dependable as the sunrise. No matter the sitch, Ron would always carry her spear and follow her lead, even through the gates of Hell.

_Without so much as a thank-you.,_ she confessed to herself sadly. _Right now,_ _I'm so flunking the girlfriend test!_

A steel resolve entered her soul at those words. Never again. She vowed to herself that she would never take for granted the wonderful gift that providence had given her. The gift of Ron Stoppable. She needed him in her life, like oxygen or water. She couldn't save the world without him. If she had no other reason to save the world, she still had one; Ron Stoppable lived in that world. That fact alone made it worth saving.

With the absolute clarity that comes with epiphany, she knew that there was one place she needed to be.

Within fifteen minutes she showered, shampooed, brushed her teeth, dressed and bolted down the stairs. Her mother was sitting in her favorite living room chair with the morning newspaper in her lap, relaxing from her graveyard shift at the hospital. "Hi mom," she stopped to kiss her mother on the forehead before rushing to the front door. "I did my homework last night, and I'm going to the mall with Ron, Monique and Felix now. I'll call when I get to Ron's. Love ya. 'Bye!"

Doctor Anne Possible winced slightly as the door slammed behind her daughter. She then smiled warmly, remembering what it was like to be a teenager and to fall in love with the gawky young man who would ultimately become her husband and Kim's father.

"Ron Stoppable's a lucky young man," she murmured to herself as she returned her attention to the headlines. "And Kim is a fortunate young woman.

* * *

"Okay, Rufus," Ron announced as he mixed the eggs, "cinnamon me!" 

"Aye aye!" Rufus chirruped, flashing Ron a snappy salute before scampering to the spice rack. He quickly emerged from the cupboard with a small jar of ground cinnamon, which he presented to Ron with a flourish.

"Thank you much, li'l guy," Ron accepted the jar, smiling at the mole-rat. Whatever insecurity he felt from last night's incident with Monkey Fist, he wasn't going to let it get him down. He always felt better after cooking and eating a hearty breakfast, and French toast was a personal favorite of his. He measured out a teaspoon of cinnamon into the eggs, along with a few drops of vanilla extract, before whisking the eggs again for half a minute. He then poured the egg mix into a shallow pan and was about to place four thick slices of sourdough bread in the pan to absorb the egg mix (two for him, two for Rufus), when the doorbell rang.

"Hold that thought," he nodded as he re-closed the bread bag. "I bet I know who that is."

"Kim Kim!" Rufus chittered excitedly. Ron smiled in agreement as he headed for the front door.

The second he opened the door he felt Kim's arms around his neck as her lips latched firmly onto his in a searing kiss. Ron stood thunderstruck for half a second before his instincts took over, and he returned the kiss, his arms encircling Kim's slender waist. For nearly a full minute, Kim and Ron simply stood in the doorway, content to remain in each other's arms.

Finally, Ron pulled away and regarded the red-haired vixen who was now playing idly with his hair. "Not that I mind you wanting a little Ron-shine before breakfast," he commented, "which, by the way, I was just about to make, French toast if you're interested—" He stalled his stream-of-consciousness monologue when he noticed the faint wetness in Kim's eyes, and felt a faint tremor shake her frame as he held her. "Hey, Kim, you okay?"

Kim smiled warmly at Ron as a few scant tears spilled freely from her eyes. "I am now, Ron," she assured him. "It's just that—last night, after I dropped you off..."

"Nightmare, huh?" Ron guessed.

Kim shook her head slightly, saying, "I wouldn't go quite that far. It wasn't a scary dream, just pretty intense."

"I keep telling you, KP," Ron flashed his famous half-smile, causing Kim's heart to lighten. "Don't put the four-alarm Diablo sauce on your Nacos after eight P.M."

Kim laughed lightly as she and Ron disengaged the embrace. As Kim walked into the Stoppables' living room, Ron asked, "You sure you're okay? I mean, if there's anything I can do for you—"

Kim looked into Ron's chocolate-brown eyes for a moment and nodded. "Yes, Ron. There is one thing I want you to do for me," she answered solemnly. "I want you to promise—no, swear to me, that you will never call yourself, or even think of yourself as a loser. Can you do that for me, Ron Stoppable?"

"Kim, y'know I was still a little down about letting Monkey-boy get to me last night, but—" Ron hedged slightly as he absently began to massage the back of his neck with his right hand.

"Swear it, Ron," Kim insisted. "Don't make me pull out the PDP."

Ron grimaced, before gazing again into Kim's sea-green eyes. "I, Ron Stoppable," he made a show of raising his right hand as he made his oath, "hereby promise never to call myself, or think of myself, as a loser. Okay, KP?"

"I'm gonna hold you to that, Ron," Kim smiled again. "Because you are not a loser. You hear me, Ron? You are a hero."

Ron just smirked at Kim's statement. "Me, a hero? Yeah, right."

"I'm serious," Kim declared with the solemnity of a vow. "You are a hero, Ron. You're my hero."

Ron stood thunderstruck at Kim's statement, wanting to come up with a smart remark to answer Kim's declaration. After five seconds, the best he could come up with was, "I'm honored, KP."

Kim flashed Ron a beaming smile as her arms found their way around his shoulders again. Ron happily wrapped his arms around Kim's waist as she leaned her head into his chest. "It's true, Ron," she affirmed, whispering softly. "And if I've been a little random about telling you before, I am ferociously sorry. You've had my back all this time, you kept me from taking the whole save-the-world business too seriously, made me laugh when I needed it. I mean, if you weren't there for me when Erik played me, I don't know what I'd have done. I'd either have died ten times over or just hung up my mission suit and stuck to babysitting a long time ago, if it weren't for you." Kim lifted her head, meeting Ron's brown eyes with her green. "I mean it, Ron. You are more than just the man I love. You are my hero."

Ron regarded Kim with a lover's gaze, his warm eyes softly tracing the contours of her face. He then smirked slightly, commenting. "Well, that makes sense, right? I mean, you've been my hero for so long; it's only fair that I return the favor, KP." Kim found herself chuckling, again amazed at Ron's ability to find the humor in any situation. "And for the record, Kim," he added, his tone more serious, "I love you too." He leaned forward, his lips brushing against Kim's in the gentlest of kisses. The only other sound to be heard was Rufus's "Aww!" as he watched his two humans from his perch at the dining room table.

As she reluctantly ended the kiss, Kim cast a sidelong glance at her Best Friend/Boyfriend. "Uh, did you say something about French Toast?" she asked sweetly.

"Oui, Mademoiselle," Ron backed out of their embrace, bowing to her like a maitre'd. "Welcome to Chez Ron. Your usual table?" he asked, gesturing to the table. Rufus immediately pulled a napkin out of the napkin holder and made a show of folding it into an origami swan, placing it in front of the nearest chair, which Ron pulled out for Kim.

"Great," Kim mock-scolded Ron, while still maintaining her amused grin while Ron seated her. "The table right by the kitchen."

"Just a second while I prep two more slices of sourdough," Ron announced from the kitchen. "And I think we have some turkey sausage links in the freezer. But first, some orange juice."

Kim raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Wow, the full breakfast treatment," she smiled. "You sure we have time for that?"

"Check the motto," Ron reminded her as he emerged from the kitchen and handed Kim a large glass of juice. "You can do anything."

As Ron turned toward the kitchen, Kim reached out and touched his hand, causing him to turn back to her. Shaking her head, she answered, "New motto, Ron. _We_ can do anything."

Ron regarded Kim again with a loving eye, before returning to the kitchen

* * *

"'...And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare,'" Josh Mankey recited, his eyes never leaving Tara's face, "'As any she belied with false compare.'" He returned to his seat as a few students applauded politely. Mr. Barkin nodded once and announced, "B plus, Mankey." Turning to the rest of the class, Barkin announced, "Rockwaller? Do you have a sonnet to recite to the class?" 

"I would have," Bonnie Rockwaller snorted disdainfully, "except, unlike some people, I have a life."

"You also have a C minus for the quarter, Rockwaller," Barkin intoned, prompting a few giggles from the back row. "Possible?"

Kim stood up and approached the front of the class. "I chose sonnet number 116," she announced. After clearing her throat slightly, she began;

_"Let me not to the marriage of true minds  
Admit impediments. Love is not love  
Which alters when it alteration finds,  
Or bends with the remover to remove:" _

She saw Ron in his seat next to hers, and smiled as he sat in rapt attention. She wondered how much of his attention was due to his genuine interest in the subject and how much was simply her recitation.

_"O no! it is an ever-fixed mark  
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;  
It is the star to every wandering bark,  
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken." _

The words that she had memorized took on a new meaning to her as she spoke. After her dream-experience, she knew now that the last thing she wanted was for Ron to change. She loved him as he was; warts, monkey-phobias, clumsy moments, silly theories and all. She was proud of him, and prayed that he would never lose, for want of a better phrase, his essential Ron-ness.

_"Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks  
Within his bending sickle's compass come:  
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,  
But bears it out even to the edge of doom." _

And with each word, she silently vowed that she would never let him forget that he was loved. That he didn't need to be wealthy or handsome or muscular, that he didn't need to bend over backward to impress her. That he wasn't just the sidekick, the comic relief, the distraction. That he was her partner in all things; on missions, at school, in every aspect of their lives.

_"If this be error and upon me proved,  
I never writ, nor no man ever loved." _

Kim bowed slightly before returning to her seat, as Ron applauded and whistled vigorously. "A plus, Possible," Barkin announced, and the rest of the class joined in Ron's applause, except Bonnie.

"Stoppable!" Barkin barked.

"Here sir," Ron stood up suddenly and approached the blackboard. "I'm reciting Sonnet 29," he answered. Locating an empty chair next to Barkin's desk, he pulled out the chair and sat down, lowering his head. Kim's curiosity was piqued by Ron's stage-setting, and she thumbed through her textbook to locate Sonnet 29.

"What are you doing, Stoppable?" Barkin grunted.

"Just achieving the appropriate level of gravitas," he replied.

"Just make it quick, Stoppable," Barkin rolled his eyes. Bonnie placed her hand over her forehead, extending her index finger and thumb into an 'L'. Without even looking at her, Barkin announced, "And Rockwaller, you're just one more punk hand gesture away from detention." A few scornful laughs echoed from the back row, and Bonnie just sulked in her chair.

Finally, Ron began his recitation;

_"When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,  
I all alone beweep my outcast state  
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries  
And look upon myself and curse my fate," _

He lifted his head a little and sighed theatrically, his eyes scanning the classroom. He shook his head and continued;

_"Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,  
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,  
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,  
With what I most enjoy contented least..." _

As he recited the lines, he regarded Josh, Tara and Bonnie. The popular students, the ones who had status in the school and seemed to accept it as their due, as though they were entitled to their positions at the top of the food chain. Josh and Tara regarded Ron attentively as he spoke, while Bonnie squirmed uncomfortably.

_"Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,  
Haply I think on thee—" _

He then turned his attention to Kim, who seemed to hang on every word he spoke. He sat up in his chair and his voice rose in timbre, from the whispered ache of his opening to a steadily building crescendo.

_"—and then my state,  
Like to the lark at break of day arising  
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate!" _

He stood up from his chair and delivered the final couplet with a transcendent shout of joy.

_"For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings  
That then I scorn to change my state with kings!" _

He bowed low from the waist, like an Olympic gymnast nailing his dismount. Kim gazed in renewed wonder at her boyfriend, overjoyed to be the object of Ron's recitation. The class held their collective breath as they awaited their teacher's verdict.

Barkin stood stone-faced for ten seconds, before a faint smile played at his lips. "I never thought I'd live to say this," he announced, a faint but present tone of genuine pleasure in his voice, "but A-plus, Stoppable!"

A huge wave of applause hit Ron at that point, with Kim leading the charge, clapping her hands and whooping furiously. Even Bonnie clapped her hands, albeit reluctantly and with a scowl on her face, disappointed at being bested again. Ron, for his part, simply smiled back and waved off the adulation before returning to his seat. He exchanged glances with Kim, who flashed him a smoldering look, making him glad that this was the last class for the day. As the bell rang and Barkin dismissed the class, Kim slid up next to Ron and linked her arm with his.

"Once we get off campus," Kim whispered in Ron's ear as they filed out of class, "I'm going to give you a PDA that'll knock your shoes off!"

Ron regarded Kim with his best approximation of a leer. "Booyah!" he whispered.

FINIS


End file.
